


Dire Need of Change

by drowsybird



Series: The Valley [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Elliot Fandom Needs More Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut?, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I'm kind of obsessed with him, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kissing, Language, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Personal Growth, Recovery, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26945977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsybird/pseuds/drowsybird
Summary: You know how they say you should write the story you want to read? Well, this is me trying to do just that.Desperate to escape her life in the city, Celia jumps at the opportunity when she suddenly inherits her grandfather's farm, located near a town in the middle of nowhere. She doesn't quite know what she's expecting when she arrives at Pelican Town, all she knows is that she's finally free. She's trying to escape a past that doesn't seem to quite want to let go and sets about starting her new life. Battling overwhelming doubt and anxiety, Celia begins to lean into her new friendships for support. She grows particularly close to the dashing author who lives by the sea, and despite her best efforts soon find herself being swept off her feet - quite literally.
Relationships: Elliott (Stardew Valley)/Original Character(s), Elliott (Stardew Valley)/Original Female Character(s), Elliott/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott/Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: The Valley [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983241
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	1. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celia arrives in Pelican Town where she hopes she'll be able to build her new life. Will she finally be able to feel safe and at home?

The sound of rain thundering on the metal roof set Celia's teeth on edge. It had been nearly an hour since the down poor had begun, and she had been sitting in the bus, bumping along the road, for nearly four hours before that. Celia glanced at her watch, a sigh escaping her lips. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon but the black rain clouds had choked out the sun. It was as if the day had decided to finish early, and was trying to slip away.

Celia shifted in her seat, stretched her arms, and took a deep breath. She was beginning to feel soaked through to the bone with cold and hopelessness, despite being perfectly dry and warm. It was as if she were actually crouched out in the open beneath the rumbling sky, trying to spark a fire to life using damp wood and broken matches. She thought she would have felt lighter after boarding the bus and finally leaving the city - and in some ways she did - but her shoulders still slumped forward under the weight of her anxiety. Fear, it seemed, was her loyal companion. It had been for years. Its bone-chilling grip was tight and familiar around her throat.

Twenty minutes later the sign at the front of the bus began to flash, letters casually drifting across its face.

"N E X T S T O P : P E L I C A N T O W N"

The rain was still falling, though more lazily now, when Celia stepped down the stairs to exit the bus. She followed the driver who opened the luggage hatch and helped her collect her things. Fresh mud squelched beneath her boots, but it felt good to be back on the ground.

"Ah, there she is! You must be the new farmer!" Celia heard someone call out. She looked over to see a woman with bright red hair climbing out of an equally bright orange truck. The woman held a hand above her head as if the simple act would aid in protecting her from the rain. "I'm here to drive you out to the farm. Now c'mon quick! We can put your things in the back seat so they don't get wet."

Celia nodded, doing as she was instructed, and gratefully accepted the woman's help as she collected her bags and shoved them into the back of the truck. An odd sensation stirred in her gut as she rounded the side of the vehicle and climbed through the passenger side door. She took a moment to contemplate her new title, farmer, repeatedly clenching and relaxing her hands as she did. Was that who she was now? Was that what her new life had in store? It felt like a silly question. She had quite literally inherited a farm after all.

"Property's just a short drive from here," Robin smiled and she checked her mirrors, smoothing her wet hair away from her face. " I'm Robin, by the way."

"Thank you - uh," Celia swallowed, "I'm Celia" She held her hands in her lap, gripping them together tightly. She couldn't imagine how she looked as she sat in the front seat of that giant orange trunk, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Why did she feel so small?

"Well, it's lovely to finally meet you, Celia." Robin's eyes lit up as she smiled, warm and welcoming. If she could sense Celia's obvious unease she didn't show it, "I'm the local carpenter. Mayor Lewis asked me to help get you settled."

Celia tried to return the smile this time, "Thank you! That- that's very kind of you."

Robin nodded in return, as it was the most obvious thing in the world."It's not a problem at all. I spent a couple of hours yesterday assessing the property, mostly the cabin. It's in fair condition; although it certainly could use some upgrading." The carpenter winked, "though that'd cost you a fair fee." she smirked impishly as if sharing in some joke; however, Celia was almost certain she had missed the punch line.

"Er, right. Well, I'll let you know."

Robin nodded as if satisfied with Celia's response, and they let the conversation lull into silence as they drove. The road was lined with a wall of trees so thick Celia couldn't even see beyond the first row of firs. A tall mountain rose beyond, reaching towards the sky with snow-tipped peaks. A light wave of nostalgia warmed Celia's chest as the faint taste of distance memories tickled the tip of her tongue. She knew this place.

Soon enough they passed through an open gate, a sign above announcing their destination, "Stardew Orchards". Robin slowed the car to a stop, pulling up alongside a smaller green pick up truck that was already parked next to the cabin. "Here we are! Home, sweet home. Lewis should be inside already, he was putting a couple of last-minute things together for you."

Right, Mayor Lewis. She'd spoken to him on the phone only a few days ago. She couldn't remember his face, though she knew she'd met him as a child. He was one of her grandpa's best friends after all.

As the pair jumped out of the truck the front door swung open and Mayor Lewis stepped out onto the covered porch.

"Well if it isn't Ms. Celia! Arrived at last." Mayor Lewis smiled at her with his hands on his hips, giving her the distinct sense she was being appraised. He peered at her for a moment and then gave a gruff nod as if she'd passed some sort of a test. Lewis waited for them to meet him on the porch and out of the rain. As Celia drew closer his eyes seemed to soften and his gray mustache twitched. "You have your grandfather's eyes," Lewis said in a quiet whisper, almost reverent like. "He was a good man, he was, and one of my closest friends." he took both of her hands in his, one of his hands resting on top. "I'm so glad you are finally here. This is a special place, and I know you'll fall in love with it, just like he did."

Celia fumbled for the words that would feel like an adequate response, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Thank you, I hope so too." She finally settled on. Though simple her response, it made Lewis's smile grow.

"Well, now. We'll let you unpack and settle in. I'm sure you have a full day ahead of you tomorrow. Rain's supposed to lighten up sometime this evening, so weather should be on your side." Lewis released his grip on her hands after a gentle, reaffirming squeeze, "Please, if you need anything just give me a call." He then reached back inside, retrieving an umbrella, and nodded to Robin indicating they should be on their way.

"My home is just up the mountain here," Robin nodded behind the house, "and I'm also only a phone call away. Reach out if you need something, or just want to talk." she winked and followed behind the mayor, trying to squeeze underneath the man's umbrella as they walked.

Celia watched as their trucks pulled out one behind the other and exited the property, heading back in the direction of town. She glanced at her luggage sitting on the porch, placed there by Robin, and sighed. She had two suitcases and her backpack. She hadn't been able to pack much, but she'd just have to make do. Letting out another puff of air, she turned her gaze out towards the farm and cringed. It was worse than she had anticipated.

Despite the growing cover of darkness, aided by the mist and rain, she could tell the farm was in utter disarray. Debris littered the ground as far as the eye could see. Weeds grew wantonly and thickets of pines sprouted without restraint. Fallen trees were strewn about the fields and large stones interrupted pathways. Celia looked beside her as if expecting to see someone else, anyone else, and her stomach dropped. She was alone; she was all alone. While the notion brought her relief, it also filled her with an overwhelming sense of dread. There wasn't anyone to help her. She had to do this on her own. She was going to do this on her own.

Celia took a deep breath and stepped out from underneath the cover of the porch. Closing her eyes she lifted her face to the sky and held her hands out to her sides, palms up. The frigid rain stung as it splashed against her skin. While she may have been alone, at least she was free.

* * *

The inside of the cabin was warm and smelled of dust and mothballs. The furnishings were particularly sparse; however, Celia had known to expect that, her grandpa always had been sort of a minimalist. "One perk of country life, you learn to keep only the things that matter." Grandpa would always say. Celia set her belongings on the floor and carefully took a look around, not entirely sure what she would find. The main room was small, the kitchen occupying one half then a living area in the other. A short hallway was off to the right, leading to what she figured was the bedroom.

Celia had only vague memories of visiting the farm, and so the cabin felt mostly unfamiliar. Her mother only ever agreed to make the trip for a week or two, here and there, every couple of years. Celia never was entirely sure why her mother disliked visiting so much. When they stopped going entirely she began to wonder if her mother and her grandpa had had some sort of falling out; however, she'd never been able to get a straight answer from either one of them.

Not many things had been removed after Grandpa had died, so it was essentially the same as he had left it. The wall behind the couch was covered with pictures depicting fishing trips, prized produce, farm animals, and all manner of memories. Grandpa proudly wore a lopsided grin in each and every one of them, alongside with his signature fishing vest. Celia recognized a young Mayor Lewis in a few of them, her dad, and even her mom in one. There were also several other people she didn't know - but assumed were other townsfolk and friends.

Inside the bedroom was a simple dresser and queen-sized bed covered in what looked to be a handmade quilt, likely a creation of her grandmother's. Celia flopped onto the bed, her muscles aching from sitting on the bus all day, and exhaustion begging to set in. She considered going to sleep right there and then, but decided it'd be better to prepare for the day now - it couldn't have been later than four-thirty after all. She knew in the morning she'd be overwhelmed all over again by the monumental task set before her, so getting a few things done now would be worth the effort.

Celia had been limited on time when she'd packed her things. She had elected to leave anything that wasn't especially important in her haste to exit the apartment, so her luggage was sparse. It only took her a few moments to put away her clothes into the dresser, and a few toiletries and hygiene products in the bathroom cabinet. She was pleasantly surprised to find a few old sweaters and flannel shirts in the bottom drawer of the dresser, things she was sure she'd be grateful to wear come winter. Even if they had been her grandpa's she knew she could style them up so they didn't completely look like she was wearing her dead grandfather's clothes.

Once everything was put away Celia pulled out a pen and piece of paper and took a seat at the kitchen table. A slow-moving, heavy sensation uncurled in her chest, and tears pricked the back of her eyes as she stared at the blank notepad. What did she think she was doing? An unbidden voice began to echo in her mind, reminding her she only was capable of failure.

_NO._

Celia slammed her fist to the table, a sharp pain shooting up her wrist. She had made a choice, the right choice, and she could do this. She had to.

Celia picked back up the pen, took a deep breath, and began to write.

She wanted to set some goals, or at least an itinerary. Celia always found that making a list not only helped her feel a sense of progression but eased some of her nerves as well. It made it all seem so much more manageable when she saw what needed to happen, rather than just looking at the mess. She wanted to do everything she could to avoid feeling overwhelmed and felt this was the best place to start.

First, she needed to spend some time walking the land and taking an inventory. Yes, the property was an utter disaster, but she knew there had to be infrastructure left behind that wasn't completely falling apart.

Second on the list solving the issue of food. Celia knew she could subsist on dinners at the local saloon, but only as a last resort. She remembered eating there with her grandpa on weekend nights as a child, but that would quickly drain what meager savings she had if she relied on it too often.

"Fishing..." she whispered under her breath as she wrote, She smiled as memories surfaced. When she was a child her father had often taken her fishing, and they'd gone nearly every day when visiting grandpa. She hadn't been a master by any means, but she hoped she could remember enough to at least be proficient.

"Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after," Grandpa loved to wax philosophical, and it always ended with her father snorting in laughter and her grandfather smirking with a twinkle in his eye. Celia had often wondered if her grandpa even really understood what he was saying, or had simply gotten it from a book.

Celia clicked her pen, and pressed the tip back to the paper, "and foraging." she whispered. Perhaps she could borrow a book from the library on the native flora and fauna too. That would have to be enough to sustain herself until she had a steady income. Once that was taken care of she could begin buying groceries. But yet again, maybe she wouldn't need groceries. She was living on a farm after all.

Third on the list was clearing a yard directly in front of the cabin. That would be where she could plant her spring garden. She'd work on expanding while the crops grew and before the first harvest. By then Celia hoped she would have the rest under control or at least underway. She'd just have to wait and see what happened.

Fourth was less of a need and more of a warmly burning desire. "Make a friend..." Celia circled the last one several times before laying down the pen, staring at the page now filled with scribbles and notes. She wanted this time to be different. Back in the city she had always been so inhibited. Benji was always opposed when she suggested going out and doing anything at all really.

_Shit. Benji._

Celia had avoided thinking about him as much as possible in the last couple of days. When she had left she did so without a word, simply a note on the kitchen table of their shared apartment. She'd made her escape while he'd been away at work. It wasn't hard for her to imagine how he trembled upon discovering the paper. Celia was willing to bet the table hadn't survived the onslaught of his dry hot rage. If not the table then some other nearby piece of furniture, or perhaps even the wall. Celia had grown quite adept at repairing things after moving in with Benji. Bitterly, she supposed that particular skill would come in handy while living on the farm.

Celia's mother had been relieved, ecstatic even when Celia told her she was leaving him. Though she had pleaded with her to come home. Her mom hadn't wanted her to run away to a farm out in the middle of nowhere. But going home had never been an option. Benji knew where her mom lived and likely would be the first place he looked. Celia was confident it was better this way, or as confident as she could be. He had no way of knowing where she was now and at least she'd have time to prepare for when he finally found out.

She puffed out her cheeks and deflated with a dejected breath. Pushing the thought of Benji away to deal with a different day she stood from the table and ran her hand down her face. It was late now. She wanted to shower, and she could practically hear the warm bed calling her name.

Dammit if this wasn't her chance to start over, and dammit if she wasn't going to make the best of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading! This is my first fanfiction *ever* so I’m pretty nervous and excited too!  
> Our favorite red headed author will make an appearance next chapter!  
> Any feedback you have to offer, good or bad, would be much appreciate. And thank you for reading ^^


	2. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a hard day of work, Celia takes a walk into town.

Celia awoke to the sound of her phone's alarm blaring on her bedside table. Groaning, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Beside her phone sat a single piece of parchment. She'd received the letter just a week after her grandpa had died. His death hadn't exactly been unexpected, though the memory never failed to wake a deep ache within her heart. Before she fell asleep she had read it again, and again, and again... Until suddenly it was morning.

Celia sucked in a deep centering breath and threw off the covers. It was time to get a move on.

 _"Dear, Celia."_ Her grandpa's words began echoing in her mind and she slipped on her work boots and threw her hair into a bun.

_"If you're reading this, it means you must be in dire need of a change..."_

"Oh, Grandpa, if only you knew," Celia muttered to herself.

_"The same thing happened to me, long ago. I began to feel as if I had lost sight of what mattered most. Real connection to other people and nature. I felt overwhelmed by the stresses of the city and modern-day life. It was all just so shallow, so insincere. So I decided to drop everything, and I moved to the place where I truly belong."_

Celia had lost track of how many times she'd read that letter before finally making her decision to leave the city. While her reasons for dropping everything had been different, the letter still warmed her heart. Oh, how she missed him.

Celia sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. The ever-present tightness in her chest began to grow, unfurling, and expanding, and she took a deep breath. She couldn't believe she'd actually done it. She'd left the only home she'd ever known to start something new, something she hoped would be grand, and beautiful.

Wanting to get started before her doubts and worries could rise and take control - and not wanting to waste any more time either - Celia hoisted her scythe up on her shoulder and got to work.

Celia wandered around the property, shearing weeds and the waist-high grass as she went. She avoided the wild groves of trees she knew she'd likely get lost in, and stuck to the open field near the front of the house. There was plenty of room for a garden and she could use the seeds Mayor Lewis had been kind enough to supply her, free of charge. Lewis seemed excited to see Celia revive the old farm; the note he left with the seeds alongside a handful of tools indicated as much. He was a sweet man, a little nosy and intimidating, but sweet.

The sun made its way across the sky and as the air began to warm when Celia decided to shed her sweater, and tossed it onto the porch before rolling up her sleeves.

It was nearly mid-afternoon by the time Celia finally stopped to take a break. It had been hard work but soon she had an impressive pile of stones and stack of stray wood accumulating near the side of the house. She had even been able to clear enough of the land that she had room enough to plant a garden. There was still an intimidatingly massive grove of trees to the southwest that she was not yet brave enough to broach, but Celia secretly was excited about what things she might uncover within.

Even more exciting though, just as she hoped she would, she had already made a few discoveries as she worked. There was a rotting coop to the south, just waiting to be repaired and filled with chirping chicks, and even a decrepit greenhouse off to the west. The greenhouse was falling apart, almost in worse disrepair than anywhere else, but Celia knew with some work she could get it up and running in time for winter. Part of her doubted her abilities, after all, she honestly knew hardly anything about farming. Perhaps she was being a little too ambitious, but at the same time, ambitious felt good.

Dusting her hands of dirt, Celia whipped her brow with the back of her hand. She'd felt the remnants of winter's chill in the mornings and evenings, but once the sun was high in the sky it was a warm reminder that spring had arrived. Her back and shoulder ached, begging for her to stop working. She glanced up at the sky and decided it was time to listen.

After a meager lunch and a cool shower, Celia shrugged back on her sweater and began the walk into town. Her first stop was the grocer to pick up some food. Then she wanted to stop by the library to begin researching the local flora, as well as irrigation and crop farming. Additionally, Celia had written a note to herself as a reminder to ask Robin for advice on how to build a trellis. Celia knew that she would never be successful off of hard work alone - she had to actually know what she was doing too.

Idly, Celia hoped that she'd run into some of the townspeople along her way too. However, she did plan on going to the saloon that evening for dinner, so she supposed there was time for socializing one way or another.

The walk into town seemed to only be a mile or two and took Celia about thirty minutes to get there. Distant memories tickled her consciousness as she entered into the town square. Houses lined the street, along with a medical clinic, a store, and the saloon next to the town square. Celia walked over to the storefront where she spied a large notice board hanging near the entrance. It was covered with several flyers, announcing sales and requests for odd items or favors. Next to all of that was a calendar which... Yoba, did it list everyone's birthday? That was adorable. This really was a small town.

Celia couldn't help but grin to herself as she leafed through the calendar. There wasn't an overwhelming amount of townspeople, but she did have a lot on her plate if she was going to try to meet everyone. Celia also made a mental note of "The Egg Festival" coming up in a couple of weeks, whatever that was.

"You must be the new farmer." a feminine voice from behind Celia startled her from her thoughts.

Celia jumped before fumbling and shoved her hands into her pants pockets, "Sorry, yes, that's me." she smiled as she turned around to greet whoever it was. Even more surprised, Celia found herself face to face with a young woman with strikingly vibrant purple hair.

"Woah, didn't mean to startle you there!" She laughed, "Names Abigail., but you can call me Abby if you want." the young woman held out a hand, a smirk playing at her lips as if she in fact had meant to startle Celia.

"Celia." she chuckled as she took Abigail's hand. Abigail looked young, though didn't appear as if she could have been more than a year or two younger than Celia herself. Her bright purple hair fell a little past her shoulders in soft, messy curls. She had a bit of a punk rock look to her, with a nose ring and ripped jeans. But her eyes were kind and sparkled as if she was holding in some sort of tantalizing secret or had just thought of a joke.

"Everyones been talking about you ever since you got here. Surprised you already made your way into town - I would have waited as long as possible." Abigail smirked.

"Why do you say that?" Celia quirked her head to the side, a little confused.

"Eh, you know - small towns - everyone up in your business - always scrapping for the latest piece of gossip." Abigail's smirk deepened and she seemed to have a glint in her eye, "and you just happen to be the latest piece of gossip."

"Right." Celia's face fell a little, but she forced her smile back as quickly as she could and did her best to ignore the anxiety gripping her throat, "I suppose that's to be expected, isn't it?" She let out a faint chuckle but it fell flat. Celia wasn't sure how she felt about being the talk of the town, but she also knew there wasn't much she could do about it either. Abigail's expression softened, and she placed a friendly hand on Celia's shoulder.

"Don't worry, most everyone in this town is so nice it can be a little bit sickening. You're going to be just fine."

Celia looked up at her and let herself be reassured. She felt like Abigail was just a bit confusing, but she seemed to be genuine too. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

"No problem, Farmer! By the way, my dad runs the grocer here, Pierre's. He'd be remiss if I didn't tell you to shop here, and not that nasty Joja Mart. We live just behind the shop. Stop by anytime if you're after some company." Abigail winked.

"Right, thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

Abigail nodded as if she was satisfied. She opened the shop door and as she stepped through she stopped halfway and looked back, eyes sparkling once again, "One last thing, my friends and hang out at the saloon nearly every Friday night, you should join us sometime!" Abigail didn't wait for a response this time and disappeared inside the store.

"Yeah, sure! Maybe I'll see you there." Celia said dumbly, despite the fact that Abigail was already gone. She dragged a hand down her face and took a deep breath. She didn't feel like she had completely screwed that interaction up. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

Instead of going into the store like Celia had been planning - she didn't want to follow immediately after Abigail - she decided to continue on to the library instead.

After about twenty minutes of wandering and only getting a little bit lost, Celia found herself in the entryway of the library. An older gentleman with a striking mustache clothing that seemed to only be denim sat behind the counter - the librarian perhaps? He nodded at her in greeting, but much to Celia's relief he didn't offer up any conversation. She slipped away and began slowly wandering up and down the aisled hallways. The bookshelves stretched high up towards the ceiling. Celia was certain she'd need help retrieving anything up from the top shelf. She lifted her hand and gently ran her fingertips along the spines of the passing books as she walked. There would likely be an entire section dedicated to farming in a town like this, but for now, she simply wanted to familiarize herself with her surroundings.

After minutes of wandering, Celia stepped into the main room of the library. Several square tables filled the space and beyond that a carpeted sitting area. There was a young red-haired woman, who appeared to be tutoring two young children. They sat around a table filled with workbooks and pens. Not wanting to interrupt, Celia stepped back into the forest of books and decided it was time to be a little more productive than just wandering.

She hadn't taken another step when she bumped into something, or someone, hard and a flurry of books tumbled to the floor.

"Goodness, I'm - I'm so sorry!" Celia gasped as she took a step back and pushed her hair out of her face in surprise, observing the mess.

"No, forgive me for the fault is mine. Are, are you alright?" the man blinked at her, held a hand to his chest, obviously startled.

Celia blinked back, unsure of how to respond. She was sure what exactly she was looking at. The man had long, flowing auburn hair oddly matched by a handsome angular nose and square jaw. He wore a green tie and a stylish maroon suit coat that felt a little out of place in such a remote country town. He stood up straighter under what only could have been interpreted as a scrutinizing gaze from Celia, and lifted a hand to her head. "I didn't you hurt did I, is everything okay?"

Celia jumped at touch, she'd been staring hadn't she? "Sorry, no. I mean yes! Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine." She choked out and took yet another step back, uncomfortable by his proximity. His outstretched hand fell to his side.

"I didn't even see you... I just get so distracted when surrounded by books," he said, almost more to himself than to her. His brow furrowed as he spoke and he began to worry his lip. Celia shook her head, trying to clear her mind as she caught herself staring once again.

"Here, let me help you with those," Celia mumbled, embarrassed, and trying to avoid his gaze as she began gathering his fallen books from the ground.

"Yes, thank you," he said softly, and crouched down as well, taking the books as she handed them to them.

Thoreau, Shakespeare, Austen? She found his selection of books interesting, purely classical, and a little bit... Uninspired - but who was she to judge what he enjoyed? But she was caught, yet again. He saw her eyeing the spines of his stack and smiled.

"Do you read?" He asked.

"Do I read?" She repeated the question, unsure of how he expected her to answer. What could he mean, _did she read?_. He couldn’t possibly think she was illiterate.

His expression shifted as he remembered where they were.

"Excuse me, I have forgotten myself. We are quite literally standing in the middle of a library. Of course you read." He looked away, a faint shade pink climbing up the side of his neck. He was mumbling something to himself, but his head shot back up when she began to laugh, his eyes widening.

"Yes, I read, though not as much as I would like." Celia chuckled, "I don't think I've read anything of your caliber since I was in high school." the tension seeped away from his shoulders as he watched her, and a smile returned to his face. "I'm Celia, by the way." She smiled and offered him her hand. Celia surprised herself a little bit, by the amount of ease she felt. She'd laughed and introduced herself of her own initiative, rather than slinking away at the first opportunity.

"Elliot." He returned her smile in tenfold, his eyes shining brightly as he took her offered hand in his. "I take it you're the new farmer I've heard everyone talking about?"

"Right, yes" Celia dropped her hand to her side as Elliot let go, clenching it into a fist. "I arrived about a week ago."

"It seems I owe you my gratitude then?"

Celia's face fell. What did he mean by that?

"Well, you see, until you came along, I found myself to be the most recent addition to the valley. I only moved here about a year ago myself." Elliot explained.

"So you're grateful because I've allowed you to escape the gossiping of conversation topic starved sharks?" Celia laughed again, understanding now, and pleased when she heard him chuckle too.

"You've caught me." Elliot grinned, "I've never particularly enjoyed being the center of attention, which I suppose is odd considering my choice in career." he shrugged, the blush on his neck rising to meet his cheeks.

Celia decided to take the bait, and allowed him to hook her curiosity, "and what would that be? Your choice in career?"

Elliot smiled warmly, and tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear, "I'm an author." his eyes and met Celia's once more, waiting.

"An author?" That... Well, that made sense. His choice in dress, the way he spoke, his hair. It seemed he did have a flair for the dramatic. "I think that's amazing? How many books have you published?" Celia had often daydreamed of being a writer as a child, but that dream had faded as she grew older. To meet someone who'd held onto that dream felt inspiring. So inspiring in fact that she didn't notice when Elliot's smile disappeared and he began to shift uncomfortably on his feet.

"That's the rub I suppose - you see I haven't published anything yet." Elliot looked at the stack of books held in his arms, a now forced smile curving his lips.

"Oh, I see." was all Celia could think to say and kicked herself. What now? She didn't want him to think she thought badly of him for that. Elliot lifted his gaze once more to meet hers, an unfamiliar sadness hidden deep behind his eyes, but his smile seemed a little less forced.

"Unpublished I may be, but I'm not going to let that stop me!" Elliot squared his shoulders, a determined expression setting on his face.

Celia smiled at the shift in emotion, "What is stopping you then?" She asked.

Celia's question seemed to catch Elliot by surprise, and he paused. He spent a moment worrying his lip before looking at her again and deciding on an answer, "I suppose it's that I can never seem to stick to one story. I'm always flopping about, a little unsure of which direction I should go, or which path I should take."

"Hmmm..." Celia nodded contemplating his answer. That did seem like a particularly annoying roadblock, but one that would be necessary to surpass.

"Tell me," Elliot said, casually leaning against the nearby bookshelf, "you said you read, but not as much as you like. When you do pick up a book, what sort of story do you prefer?"

Unsure, Celia took a moment of pause as well. She was looking for books right now but those were all on farming or carpentry. She doubted that was the sort of answer he was looking for. "Romance." She settled on, "however, I've always been a sucker for a whimsical fairytale too."

Elliot nodded, his eyes suddenly distant and his lips parted in thought. "I see... Forgive me." he gasped, suddenly out of breath, "I must return to my cabin, I'm..." He drifted off, before shoving his stacks of books into her arms, "I'm feeling inspired!" Elliot grinned at her and her heart skipped a beat. "Thank you." he finished, and before she could respond he disappeared down the hall and out of sight.

Celia didn't move, just staring at where Elliot had been standing just moments before. "What just happened?" she mumbled to herself, before turning around to deliver the stack of books back to the librarian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the idea of a meet-cute in the library and couldn't resist... I think we may have a pair of nerds on our hands here. 
> 
> Please lead any feedback or thoughts, if you have them! I'd love to hear. And thank you for reading.


	3. The Saloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celia finally convinces herself to make a visit to the Saloon and even manages to make some new friends.

Celia took a deep breath as she stared at the front door of the saloon, her hands shoved in her hoodie pockets and her lips pursed together. For the last few days, Celia had been trying to talk herself into going inside the bar. Each time she had failed and instead ended her night reluctantly eating at home. Alone. However, tonight was Friday. She hadn't forgotten Abby's invitation. She had specifically invited Celia to join her and her friends, on Friday night at the Saloon. 

Celia glanced down at her clothing, not sure if she was dressed appropriately. She still wore her mud-covered work boots, but she'd exchanged her tired jeans for a pair of shorts, and her sweater for a white flowy top and a jacket thrown over it. She was sure it would be fine. If she was being honest with herself, she was probably just trying to find a reason to turn around and go home. She couldn't keep doing this, holding herself back. She had to get it over with at some point before everyone in town decided she was a recluse. She was going to go inside tonight, and she was going to do it right...

_Now!_

Before she could change her mind Celia flung open the saloon door and took a step inside. Despite the build-up she had felt rising in her chest her entrance was quiet and normal. No one cried out or even really looked her way as she walked inside. Celia sighed, her shoulders relaxing, and kept moving forward. She had this. Everything was going to be fine.

She decided to take a seat at the bar, not too close to the register, but not so far away that she would be forgotten either. As she settled she finally took a look around the room, observing the other townsfolk. From the other side of the counter, a large mustachioed man approached her, his eyes sparkling and smile wide.

"The name's Gus! How can help you tonight, Miss?" Gus's voice was loud and booming but in a pleasant sort of way. Despite his size, his kind face gave Celia the sense that he was the type of person who couldn't even hurt a fly. She liked him right away.

"Whatever's on tap would be lovely." She smiled at him, her hands held flat on the countertop. 

"Comin' right up!" Gus said and walked away. He returned moments later with a large mug filled with foaming amber liquid. 

"Thank you, I'm Celia, by the way." She offered, as she took a sip of her drink.

Gus's eyes widened with sudden recognition and he slammed his hands down onto the counter. The sound made Celia jump, her drink sloshing and spilling just a little onto her leg.

"You're Celia? Mayor Lewis was just tellin' me all about you!" Gus exclaimed.

"Good things I hope?" Celia squeezed her eyes shut as she forced a smile and a laugh, taking a napkin to wipe the beer off her leg. She really hoped no one had heard Gus's declaration. 

"Nothin' but!" he paused, smiling nostalgically, "I loved your grandfather, that old coot." he said, then pointed at her mug, "That drinks on the house. Welcome to Pelican Town! We're so glad you're here."

Celia felt her shoulders relax as Gus's voice softened. "I'm glad too."

"Right then, I'll leave you to it." Gus nodded. Then as if sensing Celia's unease, he bid his farewell to give her some space, "Let Emily or I know if you need anything else."

Celia nodded as he walked away, and took another sip of her drink. She couldn't help but feel a little bit alone and out of place as she sat at there at the saloon bar. She watched silently as Gus administered to another customer calling her for his attention. She was a middle-aged woman with poofs of blond curly hair who sat at the other end of the bar was steadily guzzling a drink; a second empty mug sat on the counter in front of her. Pam, she heard Gus call her, as the woman ordered yet another drink. 

Hesitantly, Celia glanced about the room, once again examining its inhabitants. Several people had arrived while she sat talking to Gus. Many gathered around the bar's tables, smiling and laughing with one another. She even saw Robin and her husband dancing on the open floor. Celia even thought she heard the telltale sounds of a game of pool coming from the back room, along with the music and beeping of what could only have been an arcade machine. Celia wanted to join in the boisterous laughter and friendly smiles the townspeople all shared, but her chest tightened each time she attempted enough to muster the courage to do so. she noticed only one other person sat alone in the back corner; however, the cutting glare he shot her quickly discouraged her from striking up any sort of conversation with him. She made a mental note that the man in the blue sweater was a loner - and a scary one at that. 

She sat up a little taller, looking for a head of bright purple hair, but to her dismay she found nothing. Perhaps she had misunderstood Abigail's invitation, or heard the wrong night? Maybe they were in the backroom? As if to confirm her hunch she heard shouting and cheers, followed by Abigail's tinkling laughter. She might as well wander back there if she was going to follow through. But before she could stand up a voice grabbed her attention. 

"Hungry?" On the other side of the counter stood a woman with messy, bright blue hair. She wore a smile as if she was floating amidst the cloud, and her eyes seemed to peer inside Celia's very soul; yet, she could not sense one ounce of malice behind the woman's gaze - only kindness and acceptance.

"Yes, actually," Celia said, remembering her empty stomach as it gave a faint growl. She offered a smile in return, though she was sure it wasn't half as bright as the woman's.

"Lovely! What can I get started for you then?" she asked, sliding Celia a laminated menu from across the counter.

Celia spent a moment chewing on her lip before asking, "How are the pepper poppers?"

"Oh, they're delicious! But they're pretty spicey! Is that alright?" 

Celia smiled and handed back the menu, "That's perfect." The woman nodded and scattered to deliver the order to Gus.

From behind Celia heard someone give a light scoff. She glanced over her shoulder to see the man in the blue sweater gazing at her skeptically over his glass of beer. For a moment she considered engaging him, but the twisting in her gut convinced her it was better to ignore him.

"I'm Emily, by the way." the blue hair woman returned to view, her smile bright as ever, "I've been meaning to stop by the farm and introduce myself ever since you moved in! Sorry, I never got the chance."

"Celia, and don't worry about it. Better late than never, right?" Celia happily accepted Emily's hand. When she looked down her eyebrows rose in surprise, and the corners of her lips twitched into a smile. Emily's fingers practically covered in stacks of glittering rings.

"Like 'em?" Emily grinned as she caught the direction of Celia's gaze.

"They're beautiful." Celia nodded, though a little overwhelmed by the amount of jewelry. Emily held out her other hand which equally covered in glittering stones and shiny bands of silver and gold.

"I started to collect them as I got older..." Emily sighed, leaning against the bar counter and gazing at her fingers as if entranced by her jewelry. "I grew up reading legends of rare and powerful rings, forged long ago by forgotten civilizations. I'm not sure if it's true or just a fairy tale."

Celia nodded quietly, not wanting to interrupt Emily's musings. 

"Either way though." Emily straightened, her familiar grin returning to her lips, "I figured the more I collect, the more likely I am to discover one of those magical rings - if they do exist."

Celia smiled, and took a sip of her drink, "I think that seems like a solid plan."

"I'm glad you think so too." Emily smiled, "Now let me go see how Gus is coming along with your food."

* * *

"There she is! I told you she'd come." Abigail grinned, smacking the shoulder of the man standing next to her as Celia stepped into the back room. Abby was sitting on a worn couch, and nearby stood to other men - one of whom was rubbing his shoulder in mock pain from Abigail's assault. He was tall with dark hair, lanky stretched out limbs, and a neutral expression on his face. The other wasn't as skinny but was nearly as tall. He had raised spiky blonde hair that seemed to be defying gravity itself, and his easy grin stretched from ear to ear.

Abby's dark-haired victim glared at her, but the slight quirk of his lips into a smile told Celia that he wasn't actually annoyed, "I don't remember ever expressing disbelief." he huffed. 

"Yeah, well I'm sure you thought it!" Abby sassed back, smiling. 

The blonde stood next to a nearby pool table, and he looked at Celia, his eyes growing wide. He was leaning against the side, cue stick held in his hands as if he was about to make his play. It seemed that Celia's entrance had distracted him though; his stick narrowly skimmed the ball which lazily rolled off to the side rather than in the direction he'd wanted.

"Shit!" he jumped, eyes leaving Celia and going back to the pool table. "Redo! Redo! I was distracted!"

"Oh no way," the other man said, an easy smile curving his lips and surprising Celia with its warmth; however, it was gone as soon as it had arrived. "Fair is fair. Not my fault if you messed up because you were checking out the new girl."

The blonde huffed in annoyance, his cheeks flushing, "That's not - I wasn't- she- I-" but he stopped, deciding to swallow his embarrassment instead, and stepped aside so the other could take his turn.

"Sorry, Celia." Abby smiled as she approached the farmer and swung an arm around her shoulders. "These two idiots are the friends I was telling you about. That's Sam," she pointed to blonde who grinned and waved, his chagrin already forgotten, "And that's Sebastian." She pointed to the other, who offered a slight nod. "Sebastian seems scary, but all the black clothing and swoopy hair is just a cover. He's actually a big goof." Abigail grinned playfully at Sebastian who's cheeks turned a soft pink, but he didn't offer any defense.

"It's nice to meet you guys," Celia smiled as she held up a hand in greeting. Despite their warm introduction, she couldn't help but feel like she was intruding. A tight knot began growing in her chest, and she took a deep breath, determined to push through.

Despite her anxiety, Celia eventually managed to settle in. She took a seat on the couch next to Abigail as they watched Sam and Sebastian play their game of pool. It was obvious from the start that Sebastian was thrashing Sam, much to the blonde's frustration. Celia thought she heard Sam mumble something about beating Sebastian " _one of these days,_ " and Sebastian only smirked. Celia smiled, and even laughed, as the three easily exchanged jokes and quips, often at one another's expense. She even found herself joining in too.

"I dunno, Sam," Celia, laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand, "Maybe if you could stop talking about your shoes long enough to focus on making a shot, you'd actually have a chance of winning." 

For a moment they all stared at her with wide, shocked eyes, as if surprised to hear her speak. Then Abigail burst out laughing, and even Sebastian hid a chuckle behind his hand. Sam's jaw dropped and his neck flushing a distinct shade of red.

"They're brand new! I'm just excited!" he complained, but his protests only succeeded in making Abby laugh harder. She began hitting the couch next to her, her other hand on her chest as she tried to catch her breath. Sam did his best to force a frown, but he had little success hiding his laughter.

"I'm sorry, Sam, you're allowed to be excited." Celia smiled as she stood up from the couch. "But on that note, is anyone else feeling thirsty? I'm going to go grab another drink. My treat."

Celia took their orders, laughing as Abigail made another joke, and slipped back into the main room of the bar. As she leaned against the counter, waiting for Emily to retrieve her drinks, a nearby conversation caught her attention.

"No Elliot tonight?" Gus asked as he handed a plate of salad to a red-haired woman who was seated at the bar. 

"No." the woman sighed, resting her elbow on the counter her chin sitting in her palm. "He's been locked up in his cabin for days, just writing. I took him dinner last night but he pushed me back out the door before I could barely mutter a hello."

"That's odd." Gus frowned.

"I guess so, but not really. He gets like this sometimes. He forgets to eat and doesn't return my calls. I get worried but there's not much I can do." She shrugged and stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork. She muttered something else, but Celia couldn't hear what. 

"Don't worry, Leah. He's just passionate is all." Gus said, placing a friendly hand on the woman's shoulder. 

"I know. I like that about him." Leah sat up a little straighter and smiled softly in return. Gus nodded as if satisfied with the amount of provided comfort and left her to eat alone.

"Here you go!" Emily chirped, placing several drinks onto the counter in front of Celia and startling her out of her stupor.

"Right, Thanks." Celia blushed, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping. Emily only innocently smiled in return. 

Celia returned to the game room with everyone's drinks and took her seat back next to Abby. She still laughed at the other's jokes but could feel herself withdrawing as the night trickled on. Being in the crowded bar had been enjoyable, but Celia found herself beginning to feel overwhelmed. She took a deep breath and painted a smile back onto her lips. She liked Abby's friends, and she liked Abby. Interacting with them made this whole thing seem that much more possible. She wasn't quite comfortable - she knew that would take time - but all of this felt good. She liked all this _new_. Maybe she would be able to find happiness in this little podunk town.

However, Celia found that part of her was a little disappointed. She had secretly been hoping she would run into Elliot tonight. It was Friday night after all; the night most of the town visited the saloon. Had that been his girlfriend seated at the counter? What was her name... Leah? Celia shook her head as if freeing herself from her own thoughts. She didn't need to think about that. The girl seemed nice, very woodsy, Celia was sure they made a cute couple. 

_Good for Elliot._ Celia decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading :) I promise things will pick a little bit more in the next chapter!


	4. The Fish Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celia receives a letter from someone named Willy, inviting her to visit his shop on the beach. She's relieved and excited to finally purchase some fishing gear. But what she didn't expect was to run into a certain writer staring at the rolling ocean waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some slightly editing so the beginning is MUCH less passive now than it was. It was painful and driving me crazy. Hopefully, it's better :)

"Hey there, Lassy."

"I've just returned from a fishing trip. I run the shop down at the beach. Stop by sometime and introduce yourself. I've got something for you."

\- Willy

Celia hummed to herself as she gathered a handful of letters from her mailbox. The majority of the notes were coupons for Pierre's and the local Joja Mart, but beneath all that she found something else. It was a letter from someone named Willy, inviting her to visit him at his store on the beach. Celia thought she had spotted a store down there on the docks; however, when she'd tried to go inside the door had been locked. She'd been wanting to go fishing ever since she had moved to town nearly three weeks ago, but that had proven impossible seeing as she lacked the necessary gear. 

Celia took a bite an apple, her morning snack, before setting off to work. She spent a couple hours clearing the weeds collecting amongst her crops, and watering as she went. Despite the wreckage Celia had found upon arriving at the farm, she was pleased with the progress she'd been able to make so far. Soon enough it would be time for the first spring harvest. Celia hoped her sales would be enough to finance repairing the decrepit chicken coup, as well as purchasing a few chicks from Marnie. She had gathered most of her food by foraging in the forest to the south. Celia had been able to sell a lot of what she found too, mostly wild horseradish, leaks, and onions; and what she didn't sell she turned into fresh salads to keep herself fed. Once Celia began to harvest her crops she knew real money would begin to flow. She hoped that would be a turning point for her life her. She had so many plans for the farm, things she wanted to build or achieve. It was exciting to have things to look forward to, that was if she was successful here in the first place. However, she also needed to set aside some gold for repairs on the house... 

During Celia's first week in the cabin the water heater had broken and she'd been suffering through freezing cold showers every since. There was a leak in the cabin roof too, which she was currently remedying with an old milking bucket she found in the shed behind the house. Celia had considering trying to patch the leak herself but knew it would be wiser to wait to ask Robin for help - once Celia could afford to pay her that was. Celia didn't let the cold water or leaky roof discourage her though. It felt good to work the land with her own two hands and being able to watch the progress she was making filled her with pride. Weeding her crops and watering their tender leaves soothed her soul in a way she hadn't known was possible. With every swing of her ax, chopping logs into firewood, the tightness in her throat seemed to relax - even if only a little. Who knew that carrying literal stones and clearing land would lighten the load she carried in her heart. It had been such a short time, not even a month, but she felt like she was beginning to make real progress; not just on the farm but within herself as well. Perhaps everything was going to be okay after all.

Celia sighed and sat up from where she knelt in the dirt next to her row of parsnips, and dusted off her hands. According to her watch it was only 11 in the morning, though it already felt much later. She dusted off her hands and stood. The beach was calling her name. She made her way back inside the cabin and made up a small lunch to go, placing it in her pack. She figured the walk to town took her about thirty minutes, so walking to the beach would be at least an hour. Perhaps, one day she'd invest in a car to shorten her travel time. Or instead of a car, perhaps a horse? Celia laughed as she imagined herself in driving a horse and buggy around town. She felt like it would be a little impractical, but she was living on a farm. It could be a lot of fun, if she could afford it.

Celia began the walk towards town, deciding not to go through the forest. She didn't want to get lost or distracted in the woods on her way to the beach. 

As Celia had predicted, the walk took about an hour. She took a deep breath as she neared the beach, the salty air calming her racing heart. She'd always loved going to the beach to listen to the ocean. Her destination, Willy's shop, was built into the docks themselves, poking out into the coastline. Despite the dock's obvious age, they were study and unyielding against the waves. 

As she walked onto the wooden platforms and towards the shop, she was greeted by an older gentleman sporting a worn brown hat and a rugged graying beard.

"You must be Celia! It's good to finally meet ya, lass." Willy smiled as she approached, and held out his hand in greeting.

"And you must be Willy," She said, shaking his hand.

"Aye. Your grandfather and I were good friends, we were. I'm so glad to see the farm stay in the family. That land was his pride and joy." Willy's smile was soft, and the corner's of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. 

"That's what everyone keeps telling me." Celia smiled. Sometimes she felt as if she received the same introduction from everyone she met.

"Well come on inside, I have something here for ya," Willy said as he turned around and walked into the shack. Celia let out a sigh of relief at the brevity of the conversation and followed in behind him. As much as she was enjoying getting to know everyone in town, the older folks made her anxious. She felt as if they all expected something from her - like they all thought she was going to be just like her grandfather. Celia already knew she wasn't and she was afraid of how they'd all react once they found that out too.

"Your grandpapi and I always loved to go fishing together. Spend lots of nights on an old rowboat he'd built all by himself." Willy rambled, almost talking to himself as much as he was to Celia. He continued mumbling as he rummaged through a large crate next to the shop counter. "I'm sorry I can't offer ya more than this. Tis all I can afford." he stood back up, holding something in his hands, "but if you have much success I may be able to sell you something better." he smiled warmly and held out a fishing rod to Celia. 

Celia took the rod from Willy with careful, reverent hands, "Please, you have to let me pay you for this! I was going to buy one either way," Celia said, eyes still wide and mouth gaping as she held the rod before her. 

"Listen here, Lassy." Willy said, his voice gruff, "this is a gift, and I won't have you givin' me no gold for it. I want ya to have it and use it, to keep the art o' fishin' alive."

Celia wasn't sure what to say, and she could feel tears prickling the back of her eyes. "Thank you, Willy. I... I will do my best." she eventually responded, her voice cracking lightly. "I'd like to purchase some bait at least, I won't let you give me that for free too."

"Right-o." Willy grinned, "I believe that is a compromise I am willing to accept." 

Celia couldn't help but grin to herself as she exited the shop a few minutes later. A fishing rod, her very own rod! Hopefully, she would remember how to use it, though she was fairly confident it would come back to her... eventually. She hoped. Better yet, what would she spend the money she'd saved for a rod on? Perhaps it could go towards the coup or a new sweater? Her usual one was already wearing ragged. 

Celia practically skipped down the docks and back to the beach, her mind racing and new rod in hand. She couldn't wait to test it out. She'd been eyeing the spot where the river met the ocean just the other day. Perhaps she should start right now, she just needed something to keep the fish fresh-

Celia stopped mid-stride, her mouth forming the shape of an "o" as her eyes settled on someone on the beach, alone. She was surprised to see the Elliot standing near the shoreline, his hands in his pockets as he stared out towards the rolling waves. His hair was disheveled and greasy, and his clothes were wrinkled as recently slept in. He had dark purple circles beneath his eyes, and his skin was distinctly sallow. Frankly, he looked terrible, and nothing like how Celia had seen him the first time they met. 

Celia was quiet as she approached Elliot, moving slowly as if he were a skittish animal she didn't want to startle. He didn't seem to even notice her as she neared, his green eyes glazed and distant. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Celia spoke softly, keeping her expression neutral despite the twisting she felt in her gut.

Elliot jumped at the sound of her voice, and once he settled he ran a tired hand down his face before looking at her. "Sorry, I was absolutely miles away it seems" He smiled weakly at her in greeting, "Hello, Celia."

"Hi," Celia smiled, stumbling over her words as she tried to find the right ones to say, "Elliot, I'm sorry but you look terrible. When was the last time you slept or ate something for that matter?" she asked. Elliot's eyes widened at her inquiry as if pondering her questions for the first time himself. 

"I honestly don't recall." Elliot hesitantly admitted, "You see, I've been writing furiously since our last encounter. I had so many ideas I had to spill them out onto the paper before they could disappear... I," he swallowed. "I get like this sometimes. My passion takes over and everything becomes secondary. The need for food or water is not sufficient to draw me away..." the writer's eyes once again became distant, and he looked back out onto the sea. Celia felt strange seeing him like this. It was such a stark contrast from the dapper and put together man she had met in the library. She couldn't imagine being so enraptured by her farming that she forgot to eat. She liked food far too much.

"That's your home, correct?" Celia asked, nodding towards the cottage sitting near the treeline. Eliot glanced back at her in surprise, as if he had already forgotten she was there.

"Right, yes." Elliot nodded, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Come on then," Celia said and took one of his hand in hers. She was a little surprised when Elliot didn't resist; instead, his fingers intertwined with hers as they stepped through the sand. He allowed her to lead him along, and she could feel him staring at the back of her head as they walked towards his home. 

The cottage was small, smaller than Celia had anticipated, though she supposed she should have expected that considering the exterior. It was one large room, save for the bathroom off to the side. In a way, it reminded Celia of her apartment back in college. Elliot's bed took up one corner of the room, the sheets crumpled and scattered. Next to the bed was a large oak writing desk filled with stacks of loose papers and what appeared to be several feathered quills. Beneath all the mountain of papers, she thought she saw a typewriter too. 

"Go wash your face." Celia instructed as they slowed to a stop in the entrance, still holding hands."I'll see if I can find you some food."

Elliot looked at her, unmoving and expression filled with wonder, and a few stray hairs fell in front of his eyes. Once he finished processing what Celia had said, he began to protest. "You don't have to-" 

"Go." Celia released his hand and held out her arm to the side, pointing towards the bathroom. She startled herself upon hearing the strength in her voice, and a pang of anxiety shot through her chest. Was she being inappropriate by inviting herself into his home? Telling him what to do? What did she think she was doing? Elliot wasn't some child who needed to be taken care of - he was a grown man! He was probably appalled by her behavior. But before Celia could apologize, Elliot was shuffling towards the bathroom to do as she instructed. She wasn't sure to make of his behavior or her own for that matter, but she might as well follow through and do as she'd told him she would. Pushing her anxiety aside, Celia took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen. His fridge was sparsely stocked, much like her own, but Celia was sure she'd be able to put something together. She would just have to be a little creative. 

A few minutes later Elliot exited the bathroom, his face a little pinker and hair combed smooth. He leaned against the counter silently and watched as Celia worked. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks beneath his gaze, but did her best to ignore it. Elliot's eyes followed her as she rummaged through his cupboards for a few plates and some silverware, and his gaze followed her still as she went to set the table. She decided to might as well help her self to some lunch too. She could split the salad she had in her pack for them to share. 

"You really don't have to do all this," Elliot whispered softly, as she stood next to him spreading mustard on a slice of bread. His arms were folded across his chest and he had a strange, pondering look in his eyes. For a moment Celia's anxiety returned. Once again, she was sure he thought she was being inappropriate. He was embarrassed by her behavior and would soon kick her out of his home. But he didn't. Insead, he just stared at her, quiet and observing.

"I know." Celia shrugged, refusing to meet his heated gaze. She was afraid of what she might see should she look him in the eyes.

"Then why?"

"Because." 

Elliot stopped pushing Celia for an explanation after that. He followed her silently as she walked over to the kitchen table, their food in hand. He pulled out a chair for her after she'd placed their sandwiches down, inviting her to sit. _"So polite."_ Celia thought. They ate in silence for a time, listening to the sounds of the ocean through an open window.

"You really need to go grocery shopping," Celia said, shattering the tentative silence that filled the space between them.

A faint flush colored Elliot's cheeks as if he were embarrassed by the scarcity of food in his home. "Yes, I know," he sighed, "I'll make a list tonight, and go to Pierre's first thing tomorrow."

"Today." she amended, giving him a stern look. "You have to eat."

Elliot stared at her as if contemplating something vast. Celia worried - for the third time now - that she had offended him. But to her relief, a smile curved his lips, and his eyes sparkled warmly, "Today then." he agreed, and Celia nodded in satisfaction. Dusting her hands of crumbs, she pushed out her chair to stand. But before she could pick her plate up, Elliot took her it from before her.

"Sit back down," Elliot smiled at her, "You cooked. It is only fair if I clean up."

Celia smiled back at him. She didn't have a problem with that arrangement. The pair sat in comfortable silence as Celia watched while Elliot washed the dishes and tidied up the rest of the kitchen. Celia felt a little strange, sitting there in Elliot's home, watching him clean after having shared a meal with her. She couldn't quite put her finger on why, until she realized her usual unease - the tightness around her throat - it wasn't there; however as soon as she recognized its absence it flared back to life. She stifled a small gasp as if she were in pain and took a deep centering breath. Thankfully, Elliot didn't seem to notice. 

"When were you heading back into town?" Elliot asked once he was finished, startling her out of her stupor, "If you don't mind waiting while I shower, I'll walk with you?" His expression was hesitant, and Celia wasn't sure why. "I need to stop at Pierre's for groceries after all."

"Yes, I was planning on heading back soon, but I'm happy to wait," Celia answered. She was a little surprised at his offer but she certainly wasn't going to say no. 

"Marvelous." Elliot's face lit up. It seemed like he was beginning to perk up now that he had eaten. After a shower, and some a good night's sleep, Celia was certain he would be good as new. "I won't take long, only a moment." He amended, before closing the bathroom door behind him.

Celia sighed and settled into her chair. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, listening to the sounds of the shower as Elliot got ready. It was in that moment of quiet that she remembered her fishing rod, still leaning against the wall next to the front door. Celia didn't move though. Fishing would just have to wait. She could always find time to go later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After getting married, Elliot has a line of dialogue saying, "I've been taking much better care of myself now that we're together. The bachelor life wasn't particularly healthy for me." so I took that and sort of ran with it as inspiration for this chapter. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading <3 and please, if you have any feedback I would LOVE to hear it!!


	5. The Date, Hangout, Erm, Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To her surprise, as they walk back to town Elliot asks Celia if she'd like to go out for drinks the following day.  
> She also discovers a mine tucked away in the mountains and meets an odd man named Marlon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession - I've had the first half of this chapter written and have been sitting for a couple of weeks now. I've had this block with trying to write the second half, but I finally just decided to give it a go. So here we are.  
> 

_"Are you busy tomorrow tonight?"_ Elliot had asked Celia while they walked across the beach, headed back towards the town.

 _"No, I'm not."_ She'd said, her hands stuffed into her sweater pockets. 

_"In that case, would you like to go out for a drink... With me?"_

Celia couldn't help but smile as she knelt in the dirt, weeding her crops. Elliot had asked her out on a _date._ Or at least she thought it was a date. Maybe. It probably wasn't now that she thought about it. Why would he ask her on a date? That was silly. He barely knew her.

Celia shook her head, clearing her mind of her spiraling thoughts. It didn't matter if it was a date - she wasn't sure if she even _wanted,_ it to be a date. Celia was certain she wasn't even ready for that. Was she? There was no way she could possibly be ready yet. Besides, wasn't Elliot dating that other woman... Leah, was that her name? 

Celia sighed and took a deep breath, the smile returning to her face. None of that mattered. She liked spending time with Elliot. She enjoyed the way she felt when she was around him. Above all else, Celia knew she would like to be his friend. She could focus on that. Friendship was safe. She needed safe. 

In the meantime, Celia had work to do. It was only ten in the morning so she had a lot of time to fill before meeting Elliot at the saloon later that night.

Celia continued weeding until the sun rose high into the sky. Once she was satisfied with her progress she stood and dusted off her hands and then headed inside. She washed the dirt from her skin and emptied out her sack of her fishing gear from the previous night. She considered going fishing again but she already had a satisfactory amount of last night's catches stored away in her freezer. Instead, she decided she'd rather do more exploring of the nearby mountains. Perhaps she could even partake in some foraging along the way.

The mountain air was cool on Celia's skin as she hiked up the trail just north of her cabin. The path was lined with massive pine trees, their branches dipping low towards the ground. She inhaled deeply, soaking in the scent of bark and pine sap. It felt good to walk up here, just far away enough to escape the sound and sites of civilization, but close enough it would be easy to return. It didn't take long before she caught sight of a lone wood cabin. She assumed the house must be Robin's home - it looked just as the woman had described after all.

Celia continued walking, deciding it would be better to stop in on the Carpenter on a different day. Beyond the lone house, Celia spotted a small lake fed by a babbling brook flowing down from the mountain itself. Pine needles crunched beneath her feet as she walked, and she stopped by the edge of the lake to take a short break. Retrieving her water bottle from her pack, she soaked in the scenery. She took a deep breath, allowing the forest lake's peace to penetrate her chest and fill up her soul. Perhaps this is why she was always so miserable living in the city. She never had the same opportunities to escape into nature while living in Zuzu - not as she did here.

Celia gazed around, spotting a path leading around to the north side of the lake. Perhaps she could discover what lay further beyond the trees and on the other side. She took another sip of her water and stowed the bottle back into her pack. The trail was wilder than the one leading back to Robin's cabin; however, the scattering of footprints told her it was at least a commonly used trail. After a time, Celia came across a bridge reaching across the stream flowing from the heart of the mountain. As she crossed she was surprised to find what appeared to be a cave entrance. There were numerous footprints going in and out from the darkness, so Celia assumed the cave was safe or at least frequently visited. Curiosity getting the better of her, she decided to take a look inside. 

Inside she found herself standing in a large empty cavern. The floor was covered by rocks, and even a few intimidatingly large boulders. As she walked around she found what looked to be a tunnel leading deeper into the mountain; however, the way was blocked by a mound of unsurpassable rocks. Ignoring it for now, she continued walking. Oddly enough towards the furthest wall of the cave, she found an elevator. Wasn't that a little strange? An elevator in a cave hidden in the middle of the forest? Her curiosity rose even higher than before as she pressed the "down" button, and waited.

And waited. 

After a minute of nothing, she pressed a second time, and then a third, and then so many times that she eventually lost count. 

Nothing.

"Must be out of order..." She mumbled aloud. She knew she didn't have the know-how or even the courage, to try to pry the doors open to see what lied below. Instead, she turned around back towards the entrance and gave one more sweeping look around the cave for anything she may have missed.

Practically in the center of the room - much too obvious for Celia to have noticed - was the dark maw of an ominous-looking hole. Celia tentatively approached it, catching sight of a rickety ladder leading down into the darkness. She had assumed there had to be _something_ in the cave to explain all the footprints at the entrance, but she hadn't expected this; however, in all fairness, she wasn't sure what exactly it was she had been expecting to find.

Celia's heart jumped into her throat as she stared down into the depths of the gaping maw. She could feel her chest growing tight and her breath beginning to quicken. The darkness she saw down there was both terrifying and exhilarating. It couldn't be that dangerous, could it? There was a ladder, after all, practically begging to be descended.

Not thinking her decision all the way through, Celia lowered herself down to the ground and put her foot on the first rung of the ladder.

"Hold on there a minute, girl." A voice called out, startling Celia and causing her foot to slip. She barely managed to catch herself, loose stones and gravel scraping her skin as she hit the ground and rolled away from the hole.

"Shit." Celia cursed under her breath. Her knees and palms had taken the brunt of the impact and flared with pain. Faint pinpricks of blood spotted through amidst the scraps and scratches. After determining she wasn't seriously hurt Celia looked up to see an older man approaching her. His hair was white, his mustache too, and his clothing was dated. Did people still wear capes? Or was that a cloak? Did people still wear cloaks? Either way, it was odd; however, his choice in dress wasn't the strangest thing about him. "Is that an eye patch?" Celia asked, staring obliviously.

"Yes it is." he shrugged as if it was a perfectly normal choice in accessory.

"Why are you wearing an eye patch?"

"Do you always ask such invasive questions when meeting someone?" He countered nonchalantly, a sparkle of mirth glinting in his eye.

"I - no." Celia said, a little dumbly, then a burst of fiery rage burst out of her chest, "Hold on, you could have killed me! You can't just scare people climbing down ladders!"

"Good thing you weren't climbing then," he said as he took a seat next to Celia on the cave floor. 

"I was about to be."

"But you were still mostly on the ground."

"I mean- fine." Celia conceded, not entirely sure why she was even arguing with him in the first place. Who was this guy anyway?

"Names Marlon." He said as if hearing her thoughts. 

Oh. Well, that answered that.

"Celia." she huffed in defeat. She wanted to stand and leave. Go back to her farm. But her curiosity got the better of her. "What are you doing here anyway?" she asked, tentatively meeting Marlon's piercing gaze.

"I make a habit of keeping an eye on the mine entrance. It's not safe for folks to wander down there." Marlon said, and although he hadn't specified Celia, she knew meant to include her in that generalization.

"Mine? This is a mine?" Celia supposed that made sense. Though only a little.

"And an old one at that. It's swarming to the brim with monsters of all shapes and sizes. Youngins like you shouldn't be going down there unless you're prepared for a fight. However, it can be worth the hassle I suppose." He shrugged, "There's ore aplenty. Could be especially useful for someone living on a farm. Good for tools and such." 

A tingle ran down her spine and Celia sat up straight. "How do you know I live on a farm?" She asked warily, her eyebrows narrowing at Marlon.

"I make it my business to know everyone who comes to this town," Marlon replied, meeting her exigent gaze with a calm, but stern, look of his own. 

Celia and Marlon sat there, staring at one another, waiting to see who would make the first move. She didn't know what to think of him. Marlon had a warmth to his single-eyed gaze, but at the same time, he was hard - cold even. Dangerous. Celia was surprised to find the tightness on her throat slipping away. She wasn't going to let this man bully her into submission or even compliance. She was tired of being controlled. Tired of being told what to do. She had moved to the valley to get away from exactly that and she was determined not to revert to old habits. She wasn't sure what to say though. She had the desire determination but not much ammunition to back it up; however, Marlon solved that for her.

"I like you, girl." He said as he stood, dusting his hands off on his trousers, "You got spirit, I can see it in your eyes. But I'm tellin' you now, going into those mines ill-prepared would be a mistake." He offered a hand to her, which she looked at with wary hesitation.

"I'll keep that in mind." She said, pulling herself off of the ground.

"I'm sure you'll be fixin' to try again, eventually," Marlon continued, "When you do, come see me first." 

"Where can I find you?" 

"House just around the bend." Marlon nodded to the east, the opposite direction from the path back towards town.

Then, before Celia could say anything else - or ask any of the hundreds of questions sitting on the tip of her tongue - Marlon exited the cave and disappeared beyond the trees.

* * *

The Saloon was sparsely filled when Celia walked inside. Only a handful of regulars sat around the tables and bar, eating food and nursing drinks. She couldn't see Elliot anywhere in the room - she must have been early.

The lack of people helped to loosen the gordian not curling within Celia's stomach. She never had been much of one for crowds or large groups - and she wasn't sure she wanted many people to bear witness to whatever was about to happen. Why did she feel so nervous anyway? All this was, was a friendly drink meant to foster a budding friendship. She was putting too much pressure on herself - there was no need to be perfect, no judges writing down scores. 

Why then, had she spent nearly an hour trying to curl her hair? It'd been a futile effort anyway, her tangled waves already falling lifelessly around her shoulders. Her sandy hair never had been very adept at holding a curl. She had even done her makeup; a swipe of mascara on her lashes, dusting of blush on her cheeks, and a smear of gloss on her lips. Was there something she was hiding, something she was hoping for yet refusing to admit?

Celia was sure that if there were indeed judges hiding in the shadow, her score would be falling woefully short.

"Celia! It's so good to see you again." Gus said as he approached her from the other side of the counter, polishing a large glass mug held in his hands.

"And you," Celia said as she took a seat at the bar, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"What can I get for you this evening? We have a kale salad on special tonight if your fixin' for some dinner, or some pomegranate wine we just pulled from the cellar if your lookin' for a drink."

"Oh, no, I'm fine, thank you." Celia waved her hands in refusal, a blush tinging her cheeks, "I'm actually waiting for someone, so no order for me, yet." 

"Oh, I see." Gus raised his eyebrows, nodding thoughtfully, an insinuated question hidden behind his tone.

"Not like that! Just a friend. I'm just meeting a friend." Celia spoke too quickly and regretted her words. Her denial only seemed to cement the idea within Gus's head that she was indeed not _just_ meeting a friend.

"No worries, m'dear! I'll just leave you too it then." He left her with a smile, a sparkle twinkling in his eye.

Celia groaned silently to herself. She was just meeting a friend. Just friends meeting for a drink. That was all. 

What exactly did she want this to be? What was she so worried about others thinking it may be? Was it the gossips she was afraid of, or herself?

"Celia!" 

The sound of Elliot's voice tore her from her thoughts, and she spun around on the bar stool with a smile plastered to her face. 

"Hello." She said, forcing herself to relax just a little as Elliot walked up to her with a smile. 

"I'm sorry I'm late. I've been writing all day and I lost track of time." the writer already looked better than he had the previous day. The bruises beneath his eyes were lighter, his skin no longer sallow, and cheeks rosy and pink. He looked well-rested and lively, a man renewed. Celia had to resist the urge to reach out and stroke his stunning auburn hair. Why couldn't she have hair like that?

"No worries, I only just arrived a few minutes ago myself."

"Good, good." Elliot nodded as he sat, taking a seat beside her. He did not meet her eyes, staring instead at his hands gripped tight before him, resting against the countertop. He took a deep breath, his shoulders tensing as if bearing a massive weight. Celia's throat tightened as she prepared herself for whatever burdensome confession he seemed he was about to share. Thoughts swirled around her head, filling her chest with anxiety, _"This is a mistake. I have to leave. I have a girlfriend. I don't actually want to spend time with you."_

"I must thank you again, for what you did. Yesterday, I -" Elliot swallowed, "I get so lost at times, in my head. The real-world fades away and I seem to forget that I exist, that there are people and things and important matters outside of my little cabin." He took another deep breath, "I wander for weeks, sometimes, aimless within my own duplicity."

Celia was silent as Elliot spoke, just listening. She felt a weight to his words as if she were being told a secret of great value. Her ears were one of few, if not the only, to hear his whispered confessions. This wasn't the rejection her anxiety had promised her it would be, the denial of friendship, friendship that she so desperately craved. He was opening up to her, baring his soul.

"I was in a daze when you approached me out on the beach. I was leagues away, lost, and your tender touch brought me back to earth. You grounded me back in the reality I'd wandered away from. Reminded me that there were things - important and valuable things - outside of the tangles of my soul. I -" Elliot sighed, his chest deflated and the tension melted from his shoulders, "Thank you. I do not know how long it would have been before I found the way back on my own."

Tears pricked the corners of Celia's eyes, and she found herself at a loss for words. She had not expected to witness such an intense amount of vulnerability, here of all places, in the middle of the saloon. For the briefest of moments, she felt as if they were the only two people in the room. The walls melted away until there was nothing. It was just her and him, sitting in the quiet with his words hanging in the air. 

Celia placed her hand atop his, warm, and comforting. "We all wander at times," her voice was soft, quavering, burdened by the heaviness of the air, "There's no transgression in needing something, or someone, to wake us up."

If only she was as capable of following her advice as she was at proffering it.

Elliot looked up at her, holding her gaze. His expression was soft, full of kindness and understanding. He saw her at that moment, naked and bare. Somehow, without her even realizing it, he had slipped past her defenses and he saw the truth. He saw the pain she hid, that which she held onto and refused to let go.

She looked away, removing her hand from his and shoving it into her lap, fingernails digging into her palms. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. She had not meant to let him see, had not meant to let him in. She readied her mortar to seal up any of the cracks in the walls of her defenses. She could still feel his eyes on her, a question on his lips. 

_Why did she pull away from him? Had he done something wrong?_

"Thank you," Elliot said, breaking the silence and making Celia wince. 

"You're welcome." She replied, her voice hoarse and so quiet he had to strain to hear her above the din of the saloon.

"Elliot! I didn't expect to see you here tonight! " Gus's voice rang through the air, releasing both Celia and her companion from the tension tethering them together. 

Celia looked up as Elliot smiled at Gus, the vulnerability and weight disappearing from his demeanor. His eyes were bright and smile easy.

"Yes. I was due a much-needed break from my writing." Elliot said, "and I owed my friend Celia here a drink." he glanced over at her, a question in his eyes. She smiled at him and he relaxed, accepting her silent answer.

"Right." Gus nodded, eyes flickering between the pair like a reconnaissance agent gathering information, "Well, what can I get started for you two then?"

"I'll take an ale, and a wine for the lady," 

"Of course, I'll get right on it." Gus winked at them both and retreated to prepare their drinks.

Celia reached into her purse to grab a handful of gold to pay for her wine, but the hand on her arm made her pause. 

"Please, let me." Elliot smiled at her, his touch soothing and cool, "I ordered for you after all, what if you don't even like it?" 

"I don't think I've ever met a wine I didn't like," Celia laughed as she removed her hand from within her purse. She did not fail to notice that Elliot hadn't removed his hand from her arm, or that he shifted in his seat, moving to be nearer to her. 

"I see we have similar taste." 

"An ale is hardly a wine," Celia said, smirking at him and calling out the discrepancy.

"I need something a little harder after all the writing I've done." He shrugged, "But I am a wine man at heart." 

Celia laughed, a soft, carefree laugh. The sound was light, tinkling, and bright in contrast to the confessions that had surrounded them earlier. Elliot smiled at her, eyes sparkling, and his thigh brushed her own as he shifted in his seat.

"Here you are, one ale and a wine for the lady," Gus said with a wink as he handed them their drinks, parroting Elliot's words from before.

"Thank you, Garçon." Elliot nodded, passing payment to the bartender with a wink.

He slid Celia's glass to her, and wrapped his fingers around his own, lifting the mug to take a drink.

"Wait," Celia said, resting a staying hand on his arm, "First, a toast."

"A toast?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A toast," Celia smiled, lifting her drink into the air and nodding for him to do the same, "To our friendship."

Elliot's smile broadened, and for the briefest moment, Celia thought she spied a flush coloring the base of his neck.

"To our friendship." he agreed, and they clinked their glasses together before taking long, deep drinks.

_To our friendship._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! I'd love any feedback you're willing to provide :)
> 
> Yes I did change her name from Claire to Celia. Claire just wasn't working for me, and Celia felt more right. Hopefully, I've managed to catch all the claires and replace them accordingly. I also added a cap of 30 chapters, but that definitely might/will change. I just wanted to put a cap because I do have an end planned, this won't go forever and _probably_ won't be that long. Also text tags are hard.  
> Don't forget - you are enough. You are worthy of love.


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